The wife of an Imperial officer struggles to maintain her sanity and her vision of the truth while wearing the mask of dutiful wife, but when she meets a member of the Rebellion, her duty and her desires clash.

A/N: My apologies for the tardiness of this
chapter - real life hit in a big way. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
Many thanks to Buttercup for the awesome beta services.

The Dutiful Wife

WendyNat

Chapter Seven-----------------

The
chronometer moved slowly.

Hours after she received the news
about Ensign Chireth, Natrie lay wide awake beside her slumbering
husband. Every time she attempted to sleep, the memory of their
conversation reared, and her eyes sprang open to stare at the
timepiece on the wall. Ensign Chireth. She feigned sleep when her
husband turned over and mumbled something, and then she sighed when
his breathing grew slow and even once more. She had given the
names to the Rebels; she had shone the target on the young
man's head.

She turned over, wiping beaded sweat from her
forehead. Though she tried, it proved impossible to ignore the
chronometer's mocking stare. One hour until dawn, and six hours until
her lunch appointment with Sera. She could make it until then. She
just had to go through the motions: see Mierie off to her classes,
see her husband off to the string of meetings that he told her had
been scheduled, and then survive until lunchtime. She could do it.
She could.

She repeated that to herself, trying to drown out
the memory of her husband's voice. He's been executed.

Six
hours.

She could make it.

---

A few hours later,
as she and her husband prepared for their appointments, she wasn't so
certain. She stared at the holoprojector, each word from the reporter
piercing her flesh like tiny needles.

"…after the
tragic loss of three stormtroopers and an Imperial officer, Ensign
Chireth, the Imperial Navy has vowed to increase their work against
the small group of insurgents that reportedly call themselves the
Rebel Alliance-"

Despite her attempt at casual
indifference, she couldn't stop from flinching. Her husband crossed
in front of her, blocking her view, and with a flick of his wrist he
cut the power to the broadcast. She swallowed and stared at the spot
in midair which had, just a moment before, held the form of a
solemn-faced HoloNet reporter.

"Rebel activity? That's a
clever way to put it." A clever way to lie.

Natrie
couldn't see her husband's face as he headed to the closet, but she
could imagine his expression all too well. "It would be unwise
to tell the full truth," he said.

"I suppose so."
She fiddled with her comb, plucking at the thick tines with a
fingernail. "This is much easier for his family, I'm
sure."

"The shame would be impossible to overcome,"
he said, "if they're loyal. We're watching them closely,
of course."

Her head snapped up. "Watching-"

"To
see if they attempt any contacts." He paused to pull the
undershirt over his head – he would never speak when his voice
might be muffled. Precision, always. "It's possible he didn't
work alone."

Her hand holding the comb faltered. Now
Ensign Chireth's family was under watch, because of her. Her logical
side sternly reminded her that Lieutenant Bala's family would have
been watched, also, and they were more likely to be Rebel
sympathizers than Ensign Chireth's family. The reminder did not offer
much comfort.

Deliberately, she set down the comb. "I'd
better send a call to the transport, if I'm to make Sera's on
time."

"Take the speeder."

"Darling,
you know I don't like piloting-"

"I insist. In fact,
I was thinking of getting a second one."

"A second
one?" She stared at him. Speeders were expensive, and he'd never
mentioned it before. "Why?"

"It's safer for you
to have your own transportation."

"But you caught
the spy-"

"It would be beyond logic to think all
threat is ended, just because we found one spy. There are doubtless
more, and…" His voice trailed off, an unusual thing for him,
and she inspected his face. He was tense. More than normal.

"And
what?"

He frowned. "There might be attacks. I don't
want you targeted."

"Me? Why would I be
targeted?"

"You don't understand how vicious these
people can be, Natrie. If one of them heard that I was on this
committee, or – Natrie, you don't understand how ruthless, how
mindless these people can be! Just being recognized as a military
family member could be enough." He pulled on his uniform jacket,
straightening it with a clean snap.

You don't understand
how vicious these people can be. She shook, the sentence
repeating itself in her head – that sentence, along with the one
that had haunted her since the night before. He's been executed.
Oh, she knew how vicious they could be. She knew.

He spoke
again before she could formulate a response. "It's not just your
safety, Natrie. Or did you forget that Mierie will need to be
collected later, while I'm in my meetings? Neither one of you will
take public transport. It's not safe."

"But,
darling-"

"I don't want outsiders knowing your
movements." Suddenly, he stopped, and the very fact that he'd
started to explain himself spoke volumes on just how concerned he
really was. "I'm not discussing this with you any longer,
Natrie. Why you feel the need to challenge my every
request-"

Request? Order, more like. Despite her impulse
to argue further, she knew what she needed to do. "I'm sorry,
darling, I'm just… I'm worried about you." She turned away
from him and bit her lip, knowing he could see her face reflected in
the mirror. Artfully, she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a
shuddering breath. "If they want revenge, wouldn't they target
you? I couldn't… I couldn't bear it, if…."

"Ah,
Natrie." As expected, she heard him approach, felt his hands on
her shoulders. "Don't worry about me. You forget one very
important difference between us: I'm armed. You're not."

Catching an odd tone in his voice, she opened her eyes and
met his piercing gaze in the mirror. With a squeeze of her shoulders,
he added, "Not yet."

"Not yet… what are you
saying?"

"I'm getting you a blaste-"

"No!"
The bile rose in her throat. "I won't use it."

"There
are smaller models that would suit you." Another squeeze to her
shoulder, and somehow she held back from jerking away. "I'll
feel better when you're carrying it, Natrie."

When, not
if. The memory of another man's voice slid into her mind: We
aren't looking to you to hold a blaster pistol. A delicious
contradiction - the Rebels didn't ask it of her, but now the Empire
did. Demanded it of her. Setting her jaw in a tight line, she
said, "You'd feel better, even though I'd never use it?"

"It's
final." He stepped back from her and straightened his
already-precise uniform. "I'll bring one home today. And you
will take the speeder, if you wish to leave this
apartment."

She turned to protest again, but she stopped
when she took a good look at his face. "All right, darling. I'll
take the speeder."

The cold melted from his face at her
acquiescence and he moved to her, stroking her cheek. "Have a
good time with Sera."

Wordlessly, she nodded, and
accepted his precise kiss with a tight smile.

A short
time later, she found herself carefully navigating the tall spires of
Coruscant, cursing her husband for his stubbornness. Cursing the
Rebellion for their role in a young man's death. Cursing herself. She
rehearsed, over and again, the speech she needed to make. She
wouldn't be thwarted this time.

This wasn't the first time
she'd piloted herself to Sera's house with her emotions in her
throat, but this time they hung over her like a heavy drape of
velvet. There was no frantic rush this time, just a dreadful pull of
guilt and grief.

Soon enough, the landing pad outside of the
Saan's home came into sight. She noted the presence of Vrindo's
speeder with relief, which surprised her. He was, after all, the one
who had brought her into all of this. Who had made her a killer by
proxy. And yet, a part of her couldn't wait to see him, to talk to
him, to let him tell her it was all a mistake….

Cursing
herself again, she threw open the hatch of the speeder and headed to
the doorway.

Sera smiled widely when she greeted Natrie, but
Natrie ignored her, her attention on the man rising from his seat on
the overstuffed couch. Vrindo. She stepped towards him, shaking, her
fists clenched. A bitter anger grew, replacing the cocktail of guilt
and shame that had swirled within her since she'd heard the words
from her husband's lips. He's been executed. That voice had
held such a casual tone, to speak words with such a dreadful
finality. And the two people in front of her were just as casual
about the work they did.

All her carefully constructed
statements flew out of her mind, and with a sort of horror she heard
herself exclaim, "You had him killed!" She took a step back
when Vrindo approached. "No, not even you. Me. I killed
him. I killed him. Because of me, Ensign Chi-"

"Because
of you, Lieutenant Bala is alive."

"And because of
me, Ensign Chireth is dead! An innocent man-"

Sera's
snort drew Natrie's attention. The blonde's face held a half-smile,
and one eyebrow was raised. "Innocent? He was an Imperial
soldier, Natrie. How innocent could he be?" Natrie looked
away, her stomach tight.

Vrindo stopped his sister with a
sharp gesture. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed, and then turned back
to Natrie. "Why don't we all sit down and talk this through."
He held a hand out, an entreaty, and after a moment's hesitation she
allowed him to guide her to the couch, his skin warm against her cold
fingers. He did not release her hand as they sat.

"Natrie,
I know it's hard, but try to focus on the positive. You saved
someone's life."

"By murdering another!" She
snatched her hand away. "You… you put just as much spin on
things as the Empire does!

He sighed, but did not bother to
deny her accusation. "This is a war, Natrie. People will
die."

"I know… I knew that…" Did she?
"But…." A war. She should have known – she had
known, she just hadn't allowed herself to admit it. It was exciting
to be a spy, like a mystery program on the holonet, but it was also
real.

And real people were dying.

"But
what?" His voice was gentle, and when he took her hand again she
didn't pull away.

Before she could answer, Sera broke in, her
face no longer smiling. "Would you rather it be one of us that
was killed? One of ours?"

Natrie shook her head, her
thoughts in a jumble. "Why does it have to be anyone?"

Sera
snorted and stood. "Oh, for the love of…. How can you be so
naïve?"

"Sera," Vrindo began, but Sera
cut him off and turned on Natrie.

"Do you think they'd
hesitate? Did they hesitate when they slaughtered the entire Jedi
Temple, not even caring if everyone was involved or not-"

"Sera,
this isn't helpi-"

"Coddling doesn't help her
either, Vrindo!" Sera snapped without taking her eyes from
Natrie's. As Sera's voice increased in volume, Natrie's gaze was
caught and held by the fire in the other woman's expression. "Did
they hesitate, did they care, when they gunned down Suni
Neroon? For the horrible crime of trying to leave a cold,
supercilious bastard of a husba-"

"Sera!"
Vrindo shouted. "That's enough."

Sera
stopped, but her jaw was set tight as she glared at Natrie. Cold
snaked through Natrie's belly, the cold of truth, but she didn't
break eye contact. Finally, Sera released Natrie's gaze and, with a
final venomous look at Vrindo, stalked from the room. As she passed
Natrie, she stopped long enough to hiss, "Welcome to the real
world, little girl."

The words burned more than she'd
ever admit. Naïve. Simple. Words she'd heard before, but
from another's mouth. A mouth she now hated.

After Sera left
the room, Vrindo was the first to break the silence. "I
apologize for Sera."

"It's not for you to do."
Suddenly, the intimacy of their position hit her, and she gently
pulled her hand from his touch.

"Maybe not, but I still
feel like I should." He watched her closely, and she summoned a
small smile.

"Thank you."

He nodded; they
both knew it was the only apology she'd receive. She opened her mouth
to say more, but at that moment Sera burst back into the room. They
watched her in silence as she smacked the panel that opened the
closet door and yanked Vrindo's cloak from within.

"Would
you like to borrow my cloak?"

"You two have your
cozy little talk. Explain the facts of life to her, Vrindo - I don't
have the patience. I'm going for a flight."

"In my
speeder, I presume?"

Sera shoved her hair back into the
hood, inspecting herself in the mirror before pulling the hood even
farther over her head. "I'm you, if anyone's watching."

"Walk
like a man!" Vrindo called out as Sera left, and Natrie saw him
smile slightly at the rude gesture his sister threw in his
direction.

She would never understand the dynamic between
those two. "You're letting her take your speeder?"

"It's
replaceable. And she's a good pilot." Vrindo shrugged. "It's
best to let her blow off steam. She's been under a great deal of
stress, lately, and this-" He waved a hand between himself and
Natrie "-is just one more thing."

Suddenly sober, he looked down at his hands,
pausing a moment before answering. "She doesn't. She sees only
the goal, not who is hurt along the way." In a low voice, he
added, "I almost envy her that."

Natrie looked at
him. Vrindo, at least, seemed to understand the gravity of what had
happened. While she might be naïve, as Sera believed, something
like this should affect anyone - anyone with an ounce of conscience.
She sees only the goal. "The Emperor only saw the goal,
also."

Vrindo remained silent, his face pensive. Slowly,
he nodded. "It might seem that way…." With a heavy sigh,
he sat back, his long torso collapsing against the cushions. "I'm
just glad she's on our side. She'll do whatever needs to be done, to
further the cause."

"Without a pesky conscience
getting in her way," Natrie murmured, staring at the door
through which Sera had disappeared.

"And thus my envy. I
have too much conscience."

"But if we don't feel
anything, when an innocent-"

"I know, Natrie. Though
I believe the ends do justify the means, in this instance,
it's still not easy. Necessary, but not simple." Vrindo rubbed
his chin. "And it can never become easy, if we wish to
avoid turning into what we are fighting against."

Natrie
swallowed and stared down at her hands. Necessary. She knew, in her
mind, that it made sense. And yet…. She thought of the most recent
social event, of the young men that stood around the edge of the
room, watching the older officers mingle, sometimes speaking to a
higher ranking officer with those masks of false bravado firmly in
place. So young, so much future. Ensign Chireth had been one of those
men.

So had Lieutenant Bala.

"I know it's
difficult, Natrie. You've already dealt with things few other spies
have. Even long-standing spies." His eyes were soft as he smiled
at her. "The shine wore off of all this rather quickly, didn't
it?"

She laughed, but it was a short sound, and she fell
silent quickly, feeling the weight in the air between them.
"Yes."

"Usually, it lasts a bit longer. Years,
sometimes, before something so drastic happens." Vrindo took a
deep breath. "I don't know what it is about you that made things
come to a head so quickly. But I can't let that go to waste, you have
to understand.

"I do understand. You'll do anything to
help the Rebellion... even flatter a woman."

"I
rarely flatter someone that doesn't deserve flattering." He
smiled at her startled glance. "Do you really think I could
stand next to Vice Admiral Ozzel's beastly daughter and make a
sincere attempt at flattery?"

Natrie burst out laughing
at the thought. It was unfortunate, really, that the poor child had
taken so much after her father. Natrie might feel more pity had the
girl been a bit less beastly in her attitude, also.

Vrindo
shuddered. "I'm not that good an actor."

"Oh, I
don't know about that. I imagine you'd do quite well on the stage.
You even charmed my husband, after all."

"Motivation.
It's all about knowing their motivations. He's simple, really -
straightforward, easy to read. It's more difficult with others, such
as the Admiral. He's a sneaky sort... can never tell what's going on
behind those measuring looks."

"Measuring looks!"
She snorted. "You sound like a badly written holonet mystery
program. This whole situation does - the dashing leader, the
reluctant spy…" She trailed off.

"Reluctant?"

She took a deep breath. "Vrindo, I can't-"

"Wait.
I know what you're going to say."

"You do?"

"We couldn't do half of what we've been able to
accomplish, without your help." Vrindo moved closer to her, and
her breath caught when his eyes fell on hers. "Not just the Bala
situation, but the little tidbits you've found, input as to the
personalities that we're dealing with…. We need you."

"You
have plenty of spies." It was a guess, but she was relatively
certain that it was the truth. He accepted it without argument.

"Plenty, yes. But you are one of the best-placed."

"But
not one of the best, overall. I question so much…." She
trailed off, reminded of Mierie's words from the day before: But
if we don't question, and just follow orders blindly, we're no better
than droids!

"We've all questioned, at one time or
another." He placed a hand over hers, squeezing it gently.

"Sera?"

He smiled slightly. "Well, most
have. Not all of us are as cold as Sera." Vrindo leaned forward,
and his gaze was no longer mild, but as intense as she'd ever seen
it. "Natrie, you are very valuable to us. You play your role
well."

"I've had practice. I've played it too
long."

"Did you ever love him?"

Stricken
by the suddenness of the question, she blinked a few times at him
before turning to look out of the window. For some reason, it was
easier to speak about this without his eyes in her vision, though she
was overly aware of his presence beside her., of his hand still
resting on hers.

"Yes. Yes, I did. When I was young and
blind. Too blind to see him for what he really was." His hand
twitched, but when she turned to look at him his face was clear, and
she decided that she must have imagined it.

"And what is
he, really? All I see is ambition, stuffed into a gray suit. Is there
anything else?"

"I thought there was, once. He loves
his daughter-"

"And he loves you, still."

"Yes.
I think he does."

"I almost pity him, then."

They stared at each other, and this time it was Vrindo that
broke the eye contact. "I think we can both use a drink."
He motioned her to stay and disappeared into the kitchen

She
sat back and sighed, absently cradling the hand he'd held. When she
realized what she was doing she deliberately put it beside her,
twisting her fingers in the spill of her cape. Its textured surface
was rough against her skin, and she squeezed it tightly, seeking
something to ground her.

Vrindo returned a moment later with
a bottle and two mismatched goblets. He poured some of the dark red
liquid into each goblet and then handed one to her.

She eyed
the drink with suspicion, looking up when she heard Vrindo's chuckle.

"Don't fret, Natrie. I promise I'm not trying to drug
you, or take advantage."

Pity. Startled by the
thought, she eyed the drink once more and, mindful of her low
tolerance, she just wet her lips with the liquid. Then Vrindo smirked
at her, and she knew he had noted the action.

They drank in
silence for a time, then Natrie sighed. "There has to be some
other way, some other…" She stopped, watching as Vrindo shook
his head slowly.

"I wish there was."

"There
has to be!"

Sitting forward, he smiled slightly, a
sad smile. "If you can think of a different method to achieve
our goals, I'd love to hear it."

She swallowed. She
couldn't think of a way, and they both knew it. Abandoning that
argument, she sank back into the cushions, cradling the goblet. "I
hate feeling so helpless."

His eyes caught hers in a gaze
so intense that it would have made her squirm, if she could move.
"And how helpless would you feel, if you turned your back on us,
and returned to your life? You would try and try to forget what we're
fighting for, try to feel a little less helpless, but you wouldn't be
able to." She closed her eyes as he leaned closer, even, and she
trembled when she felt his breath against her cheek. "Even more
vulnerable, you'd watch and wonder, whenever something occurred, if
you could have been a part of it. If you could have helped."

A
light touch on her fingers, then he moved away. And, even as she
silently cursed herself for a fool, her decision was made.

--

It
was a few days before Natrie was brave enough to return to her
regular lunches with Sera, but it was surprisingly easy. Sera's moods
were day and night, with very little in between. Natrie made sure to
schedule their meetings for when Mierie was otherwise occupied with
school or friends.

She didn't realize her daughter was
keeping track of how long it had been since they visited Sera
together until one slow restday, while her husband was off on
assignment.

Natrie had been struggling with a recipe her
grandmother had left her when Mierie wandered into the kitchen. After
some small talk, Mierie said, "We haven't been to Sera's
lately."

"I go a couple of times a week,"
Natrie answered, distracted. How had her grandmother kept the filling
inside the crust on this thing? She frowned at the pastry.

"I
haven't, though."

"You've been in school." She
just wasn't a cook, that was all; some people had certain innate
talents, and that wasn't one of hers. Maybe if she stuffed more
pastry dough around the edges….

"Well, she did say I
could go by alone, if you couldn't come-"

The dough
slipped from her hands, falling with a glomp onto the shining silver
plate. "Oh." Natrie looked at her daughter. "She
did?"

"Yeah. So, can I go after school
tomorrow?"

"I'll pick you up and take you."

Mierie's face fell momentarily, but she recovered in a
heartbeat. Natrie's misgivings grew even more. "That would be
good."

Natrie nodded and, without another word, Mierie
left the kitchen. She stared after her, frowning, and Vrindo's words
echoed in her mind, a neverending loop of warning. She sees only
the goal, not who is hurt along the way.

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